


Build Me Up, Buttercup

by ElisabethMonroe



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Actor Steve Rogers, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Baking, Bucky Barnes Cooks, Celebrities, M/M, Musician Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson Cooks, Sam Wilson-centric, War Veteran Sam Wilson, baking au, baking show, vlogger sam wilson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-10-26 19:48:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20747762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElisabethMonroe/pseuds/ElisabethMonroe
Summary: Sam Wilson doesn't expect to end up on a baking show after posting a few silly videos online. He doesn't expect to meet Steve Rogers, the greatest actor of all time, or Bucky Barnes, the saddest man with a fake smile as sweet as his buttercream frosting. And even though he doesn't want to win, suddenly surviving elimination rounds is the only way to keep the other two men close and, for some reason, he doesn't want to lose them. Or the things they get up to when the cameras stop rolling.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for the Sam Wilson Birthday Bang! Happy Birthday, Sam! (His is two days before mine!)
> 
> I had the utmost luck to work with [squarephoenix](https://tomeofthecrud.tumblr.com/post/188056064694/made-for-elisabethmonroe-in-this-years) Her art is amazing and I was so impressed by her every step of the way! (Because I'm incredibly difficult to work with and she didn't yell at me once)
> 
> You can also hear Sam's baking playlist [HERE](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7c1KuJAhoQel4q9HSnqbUJ?si=djzZyHJkQo2j3NEm71xvdw) (You can't prove that it's my baking playlist)

“No, no chocolate sauce for the Bastard,” Sam scolded lightly, pushing Riley’s cat away from his work area. The stupid thing was half the reason his baking videos had gotten so popular in the first place. He should give her more screen time, all things considered. The cat batted her head into Sam’s knuckles again and then jumped up to put her paws on the edge of his KitchenAid bowl. 

“No! You know that’s one’s definitely off limits.” He quickly grabbed her around her ribs and set her on the ground. She meowed indignantly up at him and kept meowing until her owner groggily made it to the kitchen, cell phone pressed up against his ear. Riley scooped the cat up and she settled down as he held her under his arm. She wrapped her paws around his wrist and laid her head in his hand.

“Yeah, yeah, Sam’s here. No, this is awesome. I can’t believe you actually watched the tape,” Riley was saying into the phone. Sam glanced up at him but his heavy cream and sugar was forming peaks and he didn’t have time to figure out who Riley was talking to in the dead of night. It probably wasn’t his parents if he was talking about Sam.

“No, yeah, I’ll definitely tell him. Give him all the info. Yeah, I can drive him in. He’s gonna be so excited,” Riley said. He glanced over at Sam and Sam held up his spatula in question, brow furrowed. Riley waved him off with the hand holding the phone before panicking when he realized he couldn’t hear what was happening on the other end.

“Could you repeat that? Oh, yeah, sure, all of that info is correct and accurate. Yeah, we’ll both answer those numbers and emails. This is honestly so cool. I can’t wait to see what you do with him.”

The timer on the oven clicked behind Sam and he stopped trying to hear what the other man was talking about. He took out a tray of muffins and set them on the oven, keeping his body between the hot pan and Riley’s dumb ass. He freed one and set it aside to cool faster so that Riley could grab it without bothering the rest of the batch. Sam went back to his ganache and kept an eye on the cat and her swishing tail and big eyes.

Eventually Riley hung up the phone and then lifted the cat up to smush their faces together. “Her name is Baxter, you asshole. Stop calling her Bastard.”

Sam rolled his eyes and turned down the heat on his ganache. “Whatever. Who were you on the phone with?”

Baxter pushed her paws against Riley’s cheekbone, over one of the scars that criss-crossed his face, and pushed herself away so Sam got the full effect of Riley’s bright grin. “It was an executive from Stark Productions. They’re filming a baking competition show.”

Sam’s stomach clenched and he set the spatula aside. “Riley Micheal Wiatrek,” he warned lowly.

Riley shrugged, bright and cheery still. “It’s an intentional mix of newcomers, top chefs, celebrities, and viral internet sensations.”

“Riley, you didn’t,” Sam tried again.

“I submitted a video for you. Because I knew you’d never do it yourself.”

“I’m gonna murder you.”

“Do you know how many comments on your videos were begging you to audition?!” Riley defended as Sam looked around for cake smoother to beat Riley over the head with.

“I don’t listen to the whim of Facebookers!”

“And Youtubers! And Instagrammers!” Riley put the kitchen island between them and set Baxter down to get into Sam’s food to distract him. “You’re popular, Sammy! People wanna see you branch out. And it’ll be good for you. You haven’t pushed yourself since we got settled in.”

“I don’t want to push myself,” Sam snapped back as he scooped the cat up in his arms. “Getting you out of the hospital was my only post-military goal. I pushed myself enough then.”

Riley’s face softened and he stepped around the island, stealing a finger of ganache on his way, to pull Sam into his arms. Baxter extricated herself to curl up in the empty sink. “I know it was hard, Sam. But it’s been years. I’m back in school taking classes and we’ve got this gorgeous place. And a cat. We’ve got a cat, Sam. We’re just two guys now. It’s time to put all of that behind us. I don’t need you to babysit me anymore. It’s been months without a spell and I’ve even got a job that I’m doin’ real good at. This will be good for you, Sam.”

“I have a job too. What am I supposed to do in the meantime? I work with guys who expect me to be there, Riley. I can’t just stop showing up.” Sam adjusted his face against Riley’s shoulder and loosely wrapped his arms around his best friend’s waist.

“I’m sure if you bring them a lot of sweets over the next few weeks, they won’t mind,” Riley assured. “The group is tougher than you give them credit for. And they care about you a lot more than you think. They want what’s best for you.”

“Yeah, but my job is to want what’s best for them and me disappearing in the middle of nothing is not what is best for them.”

Riley scoffed and ran his hand over Sam’s short hair, familiar callouses pulling in the same places they always did. “They’re grown men, Sammy. I’m grown. It’s going to be okay. Do this for you.”

Sam’s heart thundered in his chest, but Riley seemed so sure. Sureer than almost anything he’d said since the accident. His eyes were clear and the smile behind them was purer than Sam had seen in a while. After their tours, after they got shot down, his whole world had ceased to exist and exploded into something different. Suddenly it was about easing Riley back into the world, easing himself back into the world. It was about not seeing his nieces for a year because his nightmares on the couch scared them. It was about wearing ear plugs to bed because garbage trucks in the morning jolted him awake and left him reaching for a gun.

Sam had fought back to this weird almost-normal with Riley. He had a job, he had an apartment, Riley had a cat. But most of his normal was the repetition day to day. It was normal because he worked 8-5 Monday, Wednesday, Friday at the VA and took Riley to therapy on Tuesday and Thursdays. He spent all Sunday baking and the rest of the week editing to post a video every Saturday. The cat got fed at seven every morning. That was their normal. Fucking off for a cooking show was not part of that schedule.

Still.

Still, spontaneity had been the whole of their life before the accident. They’d met both trying to sneak off base the same night. They’d signed up for a super secret mission that no one else could know about, that wouldn’t get their names written down if they died in the middle of it. They flew, unguarded, in real wings over enemy territory. They got shot down and still stumbled back to a friendly roof without calling for help. A baking show would not kill them.

When Sam looked over at Riley again, the little shit was grinning like he already knew he’d won. “Alright, fine. I’ll talk to them. But it’s not a guarantee, Wiatrek,” he warned.

Riley swooped back in for another hug, squeezing Sam until his ribs ached. “It’s gonna be awesome, Sammy. You’re gonna love it.”

“It’s not a guarantee!” Sam repeated, swatting his thigh with a towel.

Something clattered beside them and they both shouted “Baxter, no!” as the cat leapt at the cooling pot on the floor now.

~ ~ ~

Three weeks later, Sam was in upstate New York because Riley always won. “Mr. Wilson?” a sharp voice called as he wandered around the foyer of a hotel, taking in the art deco decorations and weird light fixtures.

Sam looked away from filaments burning themselves in his eyes and adjusted the bag on his shoulder. A tall woman was striding towards him. She had a sharp face, dark hair pulled back in a severe pony-tail, and well cut suit accenting her muscular body.

“Yeah, that’s me. Hi,” he said, holding his hand out.

“Maria Hill. I’m the producer for the show. Mostly I’m here to make sure none of you make too many bad mistakes.” She shook his hand firmly and handed over a stack of papers.

Sam grinned and tucked the papers under his arm. “How bad is bad?”

Maria gave him a blank look and then slowly raised an eyebrow. “You’ll have a room near mine.”

“In a good way?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows at her.

“No.”

He snorted and ran his hand over his head. “Probably for the best. I’m not from around here. It’d break your heart when I had to leave.”

“Oh, jeez, you’re going to get along just fine with the others,” she sighed.

“Making your job more difficult?”

“Always.” She shot him a pinched smirk and started towards the large room at the other side of the foyer. Dulled music and chatter managed to escape from the doors. “Your room key is in the file, as well as a schedule that you’ll be fifteen minutes early to.”

“Makes sense,” Sam agreed, nodding and following after her.

“There’s a meet and greet with a few of the other contestants and cast. Feel free to eat and chit-chat. And get your personal things in order. We’ll be confiscating phones to ensure nothing leaks out to the public about the show after the luncheon. Don’t forget you signed an NDA, along with the rest of the cast, crew, and Tower staff.”

Sam nodded again and let out a breath when he suddenly stood in front of the doors. “Are there any other regular people in there?” he hazarded.

“Mr. Wilson, whether you think of yourself as one or not, you’re a celebrity too. Do you know how many people suggested your name for the show?” Maria said dubiously. “Granted, I didn’t know you from Jack, but everyone else seemed to. But, in answer to your question, the cast is evenly divided between actors and singers and entertainers, and bakery owners.”

“And some of the entertainers are bad, right?”

“You won’t go home in the first round, Mr. Wilson,” Maria assured, lips quirking to the side again. “Enjoy your afternoon. There will be a trial run in the evening, so be ready to bake.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said. He pretended to look at the papers in his hands as Maria walked away and then let out a long breath in front of the doors. But Riley would be telling him to hurry up and go. Make new friends or some shit.

Sam sighed again and pushed open the door. At first, it was no different than an officer’s ball or a recruitment day. But, slowly, faces started to swim into focus and he felt his breath catch in his throat at the first one that registered in his head.

Because there was Steve Rogers standing at the punch table, laughing with another gorgeous blonde. Steve Rogers was one of the most talented actors in the whole world, probably. His rags-to-riches story had captivated every audience and his charming, down-to-earth personality kept them coming back for more. He’d been cast in some cheesy action flick detailing the life of Captain America, downed World War II soldier and probable folktale, and he’d put so much energy and emotion into the performance that it got him three more movies and an Oscar nomination. It changed the direction of the entire action movie industry. Suddenly docu-movies were cool again.

And the gorgeous blonde he was talking to was nothing to scoff at either. Carol Danvers was a bonafide war hero in her own right. People compared Sam’s videos to her career all the time and it wasn’t halfway fair to her because she was a two star michelin chef. And she broke down barriers in the Air Force that let Sam go where he went with the Falcon program. StarForce Bakeries was the hottest bakery in the US South and expanding more every day.

Sam could not talk to either of those people.

Down the table from Rogers was Peggy Carter, his on-screen/off-screen love interest. Sam didn’t know if Carter was a baker or not, but he imagined she was such a spitfire that, even if she wasn’t, she’d be trouble. She was talking to a blond man with a bandage over his nose that Sam didn’t recognize. On the man’s six was a gorgeous red-head and Sam’s mouth went dry when she met his eye and shot him a smirk.

When he finally stopped ignoring the commotion at the front of the room, he found Tony Stark, owner of Stark Productions. Sam wouldn’t put it past Stark to cast himself in this show. Stark was a genius with a machine, but that didn’t mean he could mix eggs, flour, and butter together.

Sam didn’t bother to figure out who all was around him. Mostly because his eyes caught sight of the dark figure in the far corner and his teenaged heart stuttered in his chest. After Bucky Barnes had dropped off the face of the Earth following a messy split from none other than Steve Rogers, suddenly everyone saw the punk-rocker in their local bakery. Though it was never confirmed and Barnes had never come out of hiding, it was mostly accepted that the young musician hid himself away in a bakery that popped up several years later named after his biggest hit--TEOTL. The letters made as much sense in the context of a bakery as they did in the context of the song that had no matching line. Still, no one could get a picture of the man or hunt him down for an interview.

But there he was, looking a little healthier than his rock star days, and a little more tired. The difference between 19 and 33 would do that to you, Sam ought to know. Sam had had every intention of avoiding the celebrities, maybe hitting up the redhead, but his feet moved him towards the first dude he’d had a sex dream about, because of course they did. It wasn’t to say Barnes was Sam’s sexual awakening. He’d pretty much figured out he was into guys and girls when he was fourteen, but he was a late bloomer when it came to sex. He’d graduated college before finally taking someone to bed and there hadn’t been many since. Barnes was just different. There was something about his style and his air and his music that dug into Sam’s chest and wouldn’t let go, even ten years on.

Oh, God, why was he thinking about this walking over to the man to talk to him? What the fuck was wrong with him, actually? He thought about just turning around to walk away, blending in with Stark’s crowd. But then Barnes’ eyes flicked up to him and Sam couldn’t just leave him.

“Hey,” he said with a nod. “You mind if I take up some of the wall space too?”

Barnes’s eyes flicked over him again and he shrugged. “Not like there’s an entire reception hall for you to stand in,” he muttered.

Sam clicked his tongue and sagged against the wall anyway. “I’m Sam. I do baking videos online.”

“Are you any good?” Barnes asked.

“Well, I haven’t burnt down my apartment yet.”

“Then you’re not as bad as Steve.”

The casual way Barnes threw it out there jolted Sam from his thoughts, which mostly revolved around getting Barnes to say his name. He realized he ought to get used to celebrities casually referring to each other. 

“So he’s one of the bad bakers?”

Barnes leveled a bored stare at Sam. “No, he’s the host. No one’s stupid enough to put Steve behind a stove. He burnt boiled eggs once.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up and he stifled a snort. “Yeah, that’s pretty bad,” he said.

“I can’t believe they’re gonna let him on set at all. He’s not allowed past the cash register in my bakery. He can just look at an oven and fuck it up.”

Sam never thought he’d be in a position where Bucky Barnes ragged on Steve Rogers immediately upon meeting someone new. He had approximately zero intentions of making Bucky stop. “My roommate’s not that bad. But he’ll eat anything, no matter how uncooked it is.”

“Oh, yeah. Steve’ll steal half your chocolate before you notice. I suggest leaving lids on things when you turn your back.”

“I didn’t know you and he had stayed in touch once you started your business,” Sam ventured.

It was the wrong thing to say apparently because Bucky shut down just as quickly as he’d opened up. Sam should’ve known the whole relationship was probably dicey and that he should’ve just let Bucky control the speed of the conversation. It must be surreal to have a stranger start asking about your dating history. Sam would’ve been pissed off and here he was anyway, doing that shit.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to get up in your business,” he started to say, but a microphone squealed on the other side of the room.

“Saved by the bell,” Bucky muttered, shoving himself away from the wall. Sam watched, feeling a little helpless and like the kid that had gotten rejected at the dance, as Bucky found Steve’s side, throwing an elbow into his ribs and catching a mean pinch back on his hip.

Sam missed Riley like an ache.

The redheaded woman from earlier came up on Bucky’s other side and mussed his already messy hair. Sam glanced around for the blond man she’d been with but didn’t find him until a voice off to his side said, “Don’t even think about it, dude.”

Sam raised his eyebrows and glanced over at the man, who’d appeared by his side fairly quickly. “Think about what?” he asked.

“Trying to get into her pants. It’s not gonna work and she’s just gonna embarrass you in the process.”

Sam held up his hands in surrender. “Lucky for me I’m not really interested then, I guess.” Not after that conversation with Bucky and all his teenaged angst piqued again.

“She’s a ballerina for the Russian Ballet,” the man continued, though Sam hadn’t asked. 

“So she’s not a baker.”

“Not on paper, but there’s nothing I’ve found that she can’t do.”

Sam snorted and nodded. “Noted. What about you, man? You some influencer?” Though he was sure the messy man was not. Sam was fairly certain there was a coffee stain on his shirt.

The man huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “No. I’m the fool who’s gonna let Tony Stark make an idiot of him.”

“You don’t bake?”

“I burn water.”

Sam nodded, though he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t get people’s fascination with being stupid on national television. Jesus, why was he here? This was too much. He should be back home. He was going to miss at least three videos with this bullshit and who knew how many therapy sessions. This was all a mistake.

“Hey, dude, just breathe. It ain’t so bad. I’ve been here for a few days. Everyone’s nice,” the guy explained, clapping a hand over Sam’s shoulder. “It’s not gonna be so bad, I promise. I’m Clint, by the way. Clint Barton.”

“Hey, Clint,” Sam said with a nod over to him. He took several deep breaths and then looked over. “Sam Wilson.”

“Well, Sam Wilson, are you a baker?”

“Not professionally. It’s a hobby. I have a Youtube page.”

“Well at least that means you’re good, right?”

Sam shrugged. “My roommate and our cat eat what I make, so I guess it’s not so bad.”

Barton snorted and nodded. “Sure. That’s a good metric. Well, hey, man, good luck on this whole thing. Excited to see what you do with the challenges.”

“Wait, do you know what the challenges are already?” Sam asked after a second.

Barton only grinned and gave an exaggerated shrug. “Who knows. Maybe I’m a government plant. Just here to spy on all of you and make tension.”

“Well then, I’ll be sure not to fall for your tricks.”

“I’m easy to fall for,” Clint said with a cocky grin. 

Sam laughed and shook his head. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. If he just imagined he was at some terrible party and Riley was a few feet from him, charming the pants off someone, it would be fine.

A few rows ahead of him, Bucky Barnes turned over his shoulder and caught sight of Barton and Sam and, maybe, a little smile quirked at his lips. But Sam wasn’t counting on it.


	2. Chapter 2

“Okay, bakers, welcome to Tasting Stars,” Steve Rogers said from where he was standing at the front of the kitchen. Sam shifted nervously, watching Bucky’s back intently to avoid looking at Steve’s face. It was like choosing the less hot of two evils. At least Bucky’s back didn’t involve his ridiculously blue eyes or his pretty mouth. Next to Bucky, Clint shifted around like he was trying to expel a lot of energy all at once and it wasn’t working. At least their station would be something to watch while he was waiting on the oven.

Sam’s space-mate wasn’t anyone he knew. His name was Daken Akihiro and he was someone’s son, not that he looked particularly thrilled at the fact. He was hot in an alternative sort of way. Like Sam expected him to have been in Bucky’s band back in the day. His hair was styled in a mohawk, edges sharp and ends messy. A complex tattoo wound down his arm and across his chest, but the glimpses Sam kept catching as his tanktop moved. A few scars stood out against his skin, especially his hands, but it only added to the bad boy look. He wasn’t Sam’s type, but Sam definitely saw how he was someone’s type.

He was also kind of an asshole and Sam hoped he’d go home soon so he’d have the space to himself. For the third time since they’d been allowed near their station, Sam pushed Daken’s things away from his space.

“The cameras are rolling. The tension is high. And I’m really hungry. Your challenge for the evening is to make your favorite five ingredient recipe. Give me something sweet, something savory, something I can shove in my mouth and then take home with me. You have three hours, which is about as long as I can bear to wait. Your time starts now. Bake!”

Sam took a breath as every moved at once to get ingredients. It wasn’t a masochistic show. There was enough for everyone and he wasn’t worried about being able to get flour. Five ingredient recipes were easy. It’s what he made with Riley during their rehab and therapy. They were simple and let individual flavors really stand out. They were usually some of Riley’s favorites.

Sam figured he could knock out a cheesecake quickly enough to throw it in a blast freezer and then a fridge to chill for the tasting. Chocolate, cream cheese, sugar (white and brown) and vanilla. Easy peasy. By the time he was ready to grab his ingredients, Daken had the base of a cookie swirling in his mixer and Bucky was making some kind of filling.

“Is that buttercream, Barnes?” Steve called, making his way from Peggy’s station over to Bucky’s. 

“I’m not making you a cake, Rogers. Get off my ass,” Bucky snapped back. Steve dissolved into laughter and Sam’s entire being halted in his chest at the sound. This TV show was going to kill him. Samm quickly grabbed what he wanted from the pantry and fridge before making his way back to his station. Steve Rogers was still there, looking intent as all hell on listening to Daken, who looked like he was bitching about something.

“My boyfriend’s name is Bobby. I fucking hate him,” Daken was saying. Steve flinched at the cursing and Sam’s eyebrows raised at the vehemence in his voice. “He’s a dumbass. We’re off and on.”

“Yeah, I know those kinds of relationships,” Steve joked. Almost immediately a glob of filling splattered over Steve’s cheek from Bucky’s station and a ball of foil came sailing over from Peggy’s. Steve looked appropriately shocked, but still started to laugh again, throwing the foil back at Peggy and scrapping the filling off his cheek to lick off his fingers.

“You’re both the worst,” he called. He turned his gorgeous eyes over to Sam and greeted him with a warm grin. “And what’re you doing, except laughing at me and my dumpster fire of a love life?”

Sam swallowed thickly before holding up the cream cheese. “I’m making a cheesecake.”

Steve’s eyes lit up and Bucky groaned at the other station. “I love cheesecake! You’re trying to soften me up, huh?”

“No, it’s my roommate’s favorite thing to make. I know the recipe like the back of my hand.”

Steve’s smile softened and he nodded. “Tell me about your roomate.”

“Uh. He’s my best friend,” he said, glancing over at Daken who was violently chopping chocolate into large chunks. “We were in the air force together. Paratroopers.”

“Heroes,” Steve said like it was as natural as breathing. “God, the work you guys do… Thanks for you service, Sam.”

Holy shit. Steve Rogers had just said his name. For a moment of betrayal, Sam stopped thinking about Riley. “It’s, uh, fine. Thanks, I guess. Uh...”

Luckily Steve cut in to avoid Sam blabbering on camera. “My dad was a soldier. I was so certain I was going to follow in his footsteps, but Ma said I had to finish school.”

“Yeah, the military woulda said the same thing,” Sam agreed.

Steve laughed and clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You woulda been her favorite,” he said, so earnestly that it made Sam’s own chest ache. “Good luck. And I can’t wait to get that cake in my mouth.” Steve winked at Sam and Sam’s knees went weak as the superstar walked away.

Bucky glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Don’t get pissy ‘cause his mom would’ve liked me more.”

Bucky glared at him before turning back to the pastry he was making. Steve made his rounds and nearly caught on fire walking by Clint’s station at one point. Constant laughter from Peggy’s station kept pulling Sam’s eyes towards her as she attempted to make sugar cookies, but was mostly succeeding in getting her ingredients everywhere but in the bowl. Her station-mate, the redheaded ballerina, even cracked a smile and tried to scoop some flour from her counter into Peggy’s mixer.

All in all, at the end of the day, Bucky had four perfect tarts and Daken’s cookies were passable and Clint had the most amazing flan that Sam had ever seen. Sam’s cake hadn’t quite set, but he hoped the taste would make up for it. Natasha had made a gelato ice cream and Danvers had the piece-de-resistance--a gorgeous icebox trifle with three repeating layers. There was no way there were only five ingredients in there, but Sam absolutely would not question her.

“No, fuck you, the pastry was already made, it counts as one!” Bucky said. Sam braced himself for a fight, but realized a half beat later that Steve was grinning and Bucky was amicably shoving him away.

Daken’s cookies melted in the mouth and Clint’s flan tasted as good as it looked. Even if someone had bombed it, the end result still would’ve been the same.

“Pegs, you didn’t even… I mean…” Steve held up a half of a cookie and the dough dripped out onto the plate. Peggy laughed again, bringing her pretty hand up to her pretty face to muffle the pretty sound.

“Alright, alright! You don’t have to rub it in!” she said, swatting at his hand. “Just take my apron and let me be on my way.”

“Bet that’s not the first time he’s heard that,” Clint said under his breath to Sam. Bucky swatted at his thigh with a hand towel.

“Ms. Carter. I’m sorry. We were not tasting stars,” Steve said solemnly, though he was clearly trying not to laugh.

“You didn’t taste anything,” Peggy pointed out, pulling off her filthy apron and handing it over. “I look better out of it anyway.” She grinned at him and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you around, handsome. Don’t scare off any of the talent.”

Sam bit his lip to keep from grinning too much as Steve happily watched Peggy leave the kitchen.

~ ~ ~

Sam paused in the dark doorway when he heard the clattering of pans in the kitchen. He didn’t want to talk with Danvers or Natasha, and the likelihood that it was Steve was near zero. Sam was pretty sure Steve walking by Barton’s stove had caused his flan to burst into flames. But, still, he was pretty sure he hadn’t heard either of the girls leave their room and Barton had been in the pool with a few of the other contestants that Sam hadn’t committed to memory yet.

So he stepped into the kitchen and had to catch his breath when he found Barnes working in a chopped up tank top, fresh fruit scattered in front of him, dark wooden work space covered in bright flour. The oven glowed behind him and chocolate orange hung in the air. Sam let out a little keen and Barnes’ eyes snapped up to him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked with an immediate scowl, though he worked it down to something just tired and sad.

“Same thing you are, I think. I like to bake when I can’t sleep.”

“I’d never get rid of food if I did that.”

“Nah, you’ve got a store where you sell them. Could charge an Insomnia price on them.”

Barnes huffed out an attempt at a laugh. “Sure, Wilson. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Sam walked over to the work space and jumped up on an empty counter. There was never enough space during filming, when they were on a strict time limit and there was no room for washing or searching for things. But now, with bowls drying in the sink and the ingredients for a topping sitting out but none of the clutter of pans and mixers and utensils around, Sam could sit and not get in Bucky’s way.

“You didn’t come out to the pool party,” Sam said, kicking his heel against the cabinet under him.

Bucky glared over at the noise but didn’t say anything. He raised his prosthetic instead to wave it around. “Not a huge fan of pools. Definitely not when Barton’s around too.”

“You know him, huh?” Sam said. It had been bugging him for the whole introduction challenge. They just moved too well together. They were the only two contestants to not run into each other.

Bucky nodded. “We bounced around foster homes together. We shared parents three times, though not for very long.”

“I didn’t know he was from around here. Hell, I didn’t know you were from around here.”

Bucky raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “We’re not. He moved around with the circus and kept getting thrown into whatever halfway home was available every time his counselor caught up with him.”

“So what about you?” Sam asked when Bucky obviously wasn’t about to go on.

“What about me?”

“I mean, were you following the circus?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and turned the flame on his torch up higher so the roar of it cut off conversation. Sam let him win for a few seconds before turning the flame off.

“So, honest, is he a bad chef? Because that fucking flan was so damn good.”

“And no one accidentally makes good flan,” Bucky agreed.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

“Exactly.”

“I knew it.” Sam glared at the clean station across from them. He’d always figured people on the ‘I’m a terrible baker’ shows weren’t actually that bad, but Clint was a really good baker. He had a good sense of flavor.

“It’s not like it’s not the same strategy Danvers and Natasha use,” Bucky pointed out after a second. “Letting people underestimate them.”

“I think ingrained sexism is not the same thing as Barton pretending he doesn’t know the difference between baking soda and baking powder.”

“Baking soda makes science experiments explode. That’s the only serious difference,” Bucky said, and it was so dead pan that it took a few seconds to register in Sam’s head.

“Was that a joke, Barnes? Are you funny?” he teased.

Bucky shrugged, ducking his head so his hair fell in his face. Sam had a sneaking suspicion he was smiling. Something warmed in Sam’s chest.

Bucky held out the bowl of chocolate mixture to Sam. “Does this need more orange? I feel like I’ve had so much in my mouth in the past hour that I can’t even tell.”

Sam glanced over at Bucky before hesitantly dipping two fingers in the batter and bringing them to his lips. He tried to ignore Bucky’s intense gaze on him. He was just waiting for a reaction was all. The flavor hit Sam all at once and he couldn’t help but close his eyes to taste the full depth of it.

“It’s a little flour-y,” he said, when he managed to find a voice again. “Have you put orange juice in it? I would squeeze half an orange just to add some liquid and bring the flavor through more uniformly.”

Bucky nodded and grabbed an orange from behind him and tossed it at Sam. “You wanna? Since you’re so smart.”

“God, if only the cameras saw that you had a personality,” Sam scoffed when he was certain he wasn’t going to drop the orange and explode it. He took the orange and rolled it along the counter for a few seconds until it was a little less firm under his fingers. He cut it in half and set the smaller one aside before squeezing the other over a sieve that Bucky had probably been using for his dry ingredients. He did not jump when Bucky’s hand settled over his forearm halfway through the juicing. In fact, he didn’t even look over at him because he’d panic and stop.

When the orange was collapsed, he dug his fingers in the pulp to squeeze out the very last of the juice. He shivered when Bucky’s hand slid down his wrist and let his fingers open so Bucky could take the orange peel. Instead of giving Sam his hand back, though, Bucky caught his eye and slowly brought Sam’s fingers up to his mouth, tongue snaking out to lick the orange juice from his skin slowly. Sam knew his eyes were wide, but he was mostly focused on continuing to breathe through the pounding of his heart.

Sam slowly moved his hand from Bucky’s face, towards his own and Bucky followed, all the way to Sam pressing his fingers to his own mouth. At first their noses got in the way, Bucky intent on keeping Sam’s fingers in his mouth and Sam just trying to get Bucky closer, but they eventually shifted to seal their mouths together. Bucky’s prosthetic found Sam’s stomach and Sam sucked in a breath at the cold, but it didn’t interrupt the kiss even a little bit. It just gave Bucky and excuse to press closer. Sam’s arm went around Bucky’s waist and Bucky pushed him back against the empty counter Sam had been sitting on.

Sam was trying really hard not to think about how long it had been since he’d been kissed and Bucky was doing a pretty fine job distracting him from it, but his aching lungs were not helping. Eventually, he got a hand on Bucky’s chest and pushed him back, though they both leaned into a few extra half kisses before they got too far away from each other.

“What was that, Barnes?” Sam gasped. He couldn’t tell if he was lightheaded from not getting enough air during the kiss or just from the fact that the kiss happened and Bucky was really, really, really good at kissing.

“You have a pretty mouth,” Bucky said with a shrug, leaning back from Sam and adjusting his shirt. “It wasn’t anything.”

“Not anything?” Sam objected, feeling something sink his chest. It didn’t feel like not anything to him. But then, all at once, he remembered Steve and the whole last decade of Bucky’s life and this stupid show and the fact that in two months they’d be going their separate ways. Of course it didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything for them.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t keep doing it,” Bucky said with another shrug. He curled his fingers in Sam’s shirt and pulled him into another searing kiss that left Sam light headed all over again. “You’re free to stay while I finish these muffins,” he added when they broke apart. “Shouldn’t be very long. This’ll be the last batch.” He turned back to his mixing bowl, back to Sam.

Sam stared at the space he’d just been and licked his lower lip slowly, catching more orange still. “No. I think I’m gonna pass out now.”

“Glad I could help,” Bucky said over his shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”

Sam blinked and nodded a little numbly. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Alright, Bakers! We have a special surprise moving forward,” Steve said, rubbing his hands together in front of himself. He’d be distracting if Sam wasn’t concentrated on not letting a blush crawl down his neck every time he looked at Bucky.

“I heard a lot of grumbling that I wouldn’t be able to do my job without Peggy to back me up. First of all, I’d like to remind you all that the Oscar committee feels the same way so you’re not original. But, I’d like to introduce your second judge moving forward.”

Sam managed to look away from the back of Bucky’s head towards a door swinging open. Carter strolled through, looking even more impossibly beautiful than she had the day before.

“This is a set up,” Clint muttered, earning a jab in his ribs from Bucky.

“We found the one person in the world who can match me plate for plate at a buffet,” Steve said. “We already know you can all out-bake her, but can you impress her?”

“Bakers, I’m in the mood for something a little far-from-home for you all. For this morning’s warm-up challenge, I’d like to see what you do for a good tart.”

Barnes was off like a shot and Sam frowned after him. “Hey, he’s already done this,” he accused, letting Bucky give him the finger around the fistful of plums he had.

“Now that I actually get to use real food, it’s not gonna be the same recipe,” he said, spreading his fruit over his station. Sam couldn’t keep his mind from drifting back to the night before and his face heated up all over again. Barnes, apparently, had none of the same reservations because he was already destroying his plums and setting his mixer to a dough setting.

Barnes ended up walking away a winner with a special advantage for the evening bake. His plum filling was too unique for Peggy to forget, even over Danvers perfect bread. That didn’t stop him, and the rest of the crew, from crawling back to their rooms to catch up on the sleep the early morning call time had taken from them. Sam stayed back to wash the bowl he’d been using and jumped when someone was suddenly beside him.

“Hey, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Steve said, reaching for some silverware Sam had already washed. He grabbed a towel and started drying. “You know, we have a crew to do this. We don’t expect you guys to stay after every challenge.”

Sam shrugged and sloshed water around a bowl. “Just helps me clear my mind after a bake like that. I rarely even use the dishwasher in my apartment. I just like to use my hands.”

“My ma was the same way. I didn’t even know we had a dishwasher for the first decade of my life. She always said ‘my dishwasher is you’.”

Sam laughed. “My mom said that all the time too.” He finally got to scrubbing the bowl and shyly glanced up at Steve. “You’re really good at the whole host thing. I mean, I’d be surprised if the silver screen didn’t steal you away for a while. You’d make a great therapist. Good with people.”

Steve smiled at him and shrugged. “I dunno. Not really where my life lead me. I think I’ve got enough issues not to be too keen on helping other people too. Didn’t your file say  _ you  _ were a therapist?”

“I’m a VA counselor. Not quite as fancy. No degree necessary.”

Steve nodded and took the bowl from Sam when it was handed over. “Still, it’s important work. Coulda helped my dad a lot to have even a counselor around.”

Sam nodded too, understanding Steve’s drift without needing more explanation. It was a story he heard too often. He scrubbed at a cutting board for a few seconds until he thought he was controlled enough to look at Steve again. “I think my roommate would like you a lot. You’re both really similar.”

“I’m glad to hear it. He’s just a ball of energy on the phone. I don’t know how you get anything done around him,” Steve laughed. “He’s so much fun.”

“Thanks, man. He tries. Sometimes he’s a real primadonna.”

Steve laughed again and nodded. “Yeah, I know a guy like that.”

“God, Barnes is something else.”

“You’ve gotten a chance to sit down with him?”

Sam thought about being shoved up against the baking counter. “Uh, yeah, we’ve had a conversation or two.”

“He’s been through a lot. I ain’t gonna apologize for him, ‘cause he’s an adult, but maybe just keep in mind that he’s trying really hard and putting himself out there in a way he hasn’t in a long time.”

Sam nodded and passed over the cutting board. “He hasn’t done anything he needs to apologize for yet.”

“Yet,” Steve snorted.

“Well, the season is young.”

Steve finished drying off the cutting board and set it aside with the rest. He took in breath to say something, but someone called his name from the other side of the set at the same moment.

“I’ll see you around, Sam. Don’t get into too much trouble until then.”

Sam gave a lazy salute back and waited for Steve to disappear before he left the kitchen as well. He had every intention of getting back to his room and napping or watching TV for a while, but he had to pass the pool to do that and the water was glittering in the early morning light.

He glanced around to make sure there weren’t too many people around to embarrass himself in front of before pulling off his shirt and kicking his jeans away. Stark would suffer his boxers in the pool water. He took the stairs on the off chance they used security footage for the show and let himself sink into the warm water. He couldn’t remember the last time he was in a pool this nice.

He let himself sink to the bottom of the pool and waited until he ran out of breath to swim back to the surface. When the water cleared from his face, there was somewhere sitting on the edge of the pool, staring at him.

“Barnes,” Sam greeted, swimming over to lean his elbows on the ledge next to him.

“Hey, Wilson. Thought I heard someone drowning so I came over.”

“Well, Prince Charming, no one’s drowning over here, so no need to worry.”

“I’m sure the two of us could come up with something,” Bucky said. Then, without bothering to take any of his clothes off, he slid into the water. Sam yelped and held out his hands to catch Bucky, but Bucky only used them to pull Sam closer.

“I thought the arm didn’t do well in the water,” Sam said when the waves settled around them.

Bucky shrugged. “I lied.”

It was a fine piece of machinery, Sam knew that. Bucky was as quick on his guitar as any two armed musician. More so than some, probably. Still, it had made sense and Sam hated the little smirk on Bucky’s face, so he leaned up to kiss it off. He stifled a sound as Bucky’s arms got around his waist, fingers pulling at his elastic band. 

“Bucky, there are cameras everywhere,” Sam warned. It did not keep Bucky from attaching his mouth to Sam’s neck and getting his hand down the back of Sam’s boxers. Which was outrageously unfair since Bucky’s jeans were too wet to peel off of his body. “I’m not coming in this pool.”

Bucky smirked against his skin and Sam shivered roughly. This man was going to be the death of him. His hand slid to the front of Sam’s boxers and Sam let out a groan.

“Then I guess we better get back up to your room,” he purred in Sam’s ear, palming at his crotch like he never did anything else with his time.

Sam bit his lip and glanced up at Bucky before pulling himself out of the pool. They made a very messy track upstairs.

~ ~ ~

“Bakers, for your challenge this evening, I’m still on a fruit kick. Make me something filled with fruit. Actually, make me something with two fruits. You have two hours. Good luck,” Peggy introduced. Sam knew what he wanted to do, but he wasn’t sure he could pull it off exactly the way he wanted with the flavor profile. It was going to have to be a winged recipe, like it was every time he made them, but normally he had a chance to throw some testers in the oven before putting the whole batch in. Between making his filling, chopping some strawberries, and making the muffin mix, he didn’t have time for tests.

“Don’t think so hard, Wilson,” Steve laughed.

“Can’t you go bug someone else, Rogers?” Sam snapped back.

It earned a snort from both Daken beside him and Bucky ahead of him. 

“The abuse I put up with on this show,” Steve scoffed. He shot Sam an easy grin and then went off to actually bug someone else. Peggy came over a few minutes later, offering to help Sam cut some strawberries for keeping Steve in line and Sam gladly took the help. Pressing the raspberries was turning into more of a hassle than he’d anticipated. Mostly because he got conscious halfway through about the number of seeds that were making it through the straining. Sure, they should expect it, but that didn’t make people’s aversions to seeds any less intense.

By the time the dough mixture was done, Peggy had finished most of the chopping and Sam was able to put the two together and spoon them out into the muffin cups he’d lined out earlier. He did not get as far as putting the tins in the oven before Steve was cursing up a storm across the way at someone’s station. There was a metal pan full of a very toasted cake in Steve’s bare hand.

“Oh, Jesus,” Sam muttered, grabbing a towel and soaking it in cold water before running over to Steve. “Excuse me. Excuse me. I’m trained,” he said, pushing through the few competitors that had come to gawk. “Could you go find burn gel?” he asked Davers when she shoved her way through too.

Steve had already put the pan down and collapsed back against a bare counter. He held out his hand without instruction and Sam quickly wrapped the cool towel around his hand. “I didn’t want to drop the cake,” he eventually said, looking and sounding a little spacey.

Sam brought a hand up to his cheek, checking his temperature and how clammy his skin had gotten. “Hey, you’re not allowed to go into shock,” he said sharply, patting Steve’s cheeks until the man looked down at him.

“What are you doing?” he asked at the same time Bucky finally got to Steve’s side. The man reached for Steve’s hand before thinking better of it and then reaching again anyway.

“I’m drawing the heat out. Danvers is getting some stuff for patching you up, alright?”

Bucky glared at him and then at Steve. “You’re such a fucking idiot.”

“I forgot I didn’t have a glove on.”

“This is why you aren’t allowed in a kitchen. I’m gonna kick Stark’s ass.”

“Tony didn’t have anything to do with it,” Steve muttered, dropping his head back.

“I’ll kick your ass too.”

“Hey, no, eyes over here,” Sam reminded, pulling Steve’s head back up gently. He stepped next to Bucky when the paramedics showed up and then immediately regretted it when Steve’s eyes tracked them next to each other.

He dropped Steve’s hand and stepped away from Bucky with a blush, thankful no one would be able to tell. Some of the cognizance seemed to be coming back to Steve’s eyes and he let the paramedics walk him away with a quick warning to Peggy to do right by him in the tasting.

“Alright. I guess I’ll give you all an extra fifteen minutes for the theatrics,” Peggy said once the filming area was clear and the cameras were resituated.

Sam ended up coming in second behind Bucky and his stupid eclairs. Some young kid that Sam hadn’t even seen ended up going home when his second fruit ended up being non-existent in his icing.

Sam didn’t stick around to chat afterwards. He made his way up to Steve’s room but stopped short down the hallway when he heard Bucky’s low voice, concerned and soft. All together unlike anything Sam had heard from him before.

“You can’t fucking scare me like that. You looked like you were about to pass out.”

“I wasn’t gonna pass out, Buck,” Steve sighed. He shifted on something, his bed, probably. Bucky sighed back and sat beside him.

“I just found you again. You can’t get kicked off this stupid show.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Can you calm down?”

“I’m physically incapable of being calm when you’re around.”

Steve chuckled softly and shifted on the bed again. When Sam finally placed the sound of kissing, he was making ready to turn and run, but stopped when he heard Steve’s voice again.

“Sorry. Sorry. I shouldn’t have. I know… You and Sam… Right?”

Bucky made a sound that Sam would have needed to see his face to place. “I dunno. It’s not serious. I can still kiss you.”

“You said that about that girl too and she punched you in the face when the tabloid pictures came out.”

Bucky laughed and Sam had to bring a hand up to his mouth to stop a gasp from coming out. He sounded so young and carefree and nothing like the guy who’d dragged Sam off last night.

“He’s a good guy. I just don’t wanna hurt him,” Steve said.

“Only one with his head screwed on right,” Bucky agreed. He must’ve not been terribly concerned with ‘hurting’ Sam, though, because a few seconds later they were kissing again. Sam rubbed a hand over his face before turning and leaving to his room instead.

~ ~ ~

They didn’t film episodes on Saturdays and Sundays, just reshoots of bad footage, so Sam was done halfway through the afternoon and had spent most of it in the gym and avoiding Bucky when he heard his heavy boots coming down the hallways.

Once the sun had set, he made his way up to the roof, needing just a few minutes to himself in the dark. He missed Riley more than he could say. Chatting with Clint in the gym was fine and Danvers and him had struck up and easy friendship when they ran into each other around the Tower, but it wasn’t the same as just laying in bed, criss-crossed and saying nothing important or nothing at all. He missed the quiet and the company. Mostly he wanted Riley to look at him and know something was wrong.

It wasn’t even that he was upset Bucky and Steve were hooking up again. Sam had pretty much figured that was happening anyway. It was that they’d talked about him beforehand. Something about it wasn’t settling right in Sam’s head. But maybe this was what being famous was. Never getting a serious relationship and bouncing around to fill a void somewhere deep inside.

Jesus, that wasn’t fair to Bucky, was it? He was just being pissy and jealous. He jumped a little out of the deck chair he was laying in when the roof-access door banged open behind him. The sillohuete was familiar though, and Sam didn’t figure he was in much trouble. 

He sat up and nodded.  “Hey,” Sam greeted, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach. Steve had said he appreciated that Sam didn’t treat him like a celebrity, so Sam was going to just bury all the elation that managed to uncurl in his stomach every time he saw Steve’s stupid jaw and smile and eyes, and the shame at eavesdropping. “I didn’t know you were still here. I thought they had you out doing publicity or something.”

“No, they definitely had planned that,” Steve said. “But…” He raised his bandaged hand and shrugged. “Guess they can’t have me looking less than perfect.”

“What a hard life you must lead.”

“You have no idea.” Steve climbed into the deck chair next to Sam and tilted his head up to the inky sky. “You ever been somewhere so dark you can see all the stars?” he asked after a second.

Sam glanced over before looking at the sky again. “Yeah, man. Not many city lights out in the middle of the desert. Our barracks had a lights out rule as soon as it got dark.”

Steve hummed next to him and nodded. “Sorry, I forget you had a whole life before this. You’re not--”

“Like what you thought a soldier would be?”

“I don’t know. My dad served, but he died when I was pretty young, so I only know him through other people’s memories.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that when I did my introduction. Doesn’t mean you don’t have biases now.”

Steve shrugged and then nodded. “I guess you’re right. I guess it was something idealized in my mind. Y’know, a kid’s fantasy. ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ I never thought I would end up doing something else.”

“I imagine most people don’t picture getting recruited for an ad campaign in the middle of the mall,” Sam agreed with a snort.

“I didn’t even know I would like acting. I mean, you know me, I’m not exactly the most outgoing guy when the camera’s not rolling.”

And Sam did know that, but hearing Steve suggest that he knew him was making Sam’s stomach flip around again. It felt wrong. After what he and Barnes had done and the history Sam knew was between Steve and Bucky. The present think between Steve and Bucky.  Things between the three of them were so natural though. It was hard to justify not getting closer to the both of them. And Barnes obviously had no issue with the two-timing.

“I guess I never had that doubt. Everything I’ve done, I knew I would like. Even the stuff that was hard usually had something good behind it. Like taking care of my best friend when we got discharged. At least I was with him, y’know?”

Steve nodded and slid down further in his seat, throwing a leg over Sam’s so he could lean his back over the edge of the chair. Sam cringed at the pop that followed. “You’re stronger than me. I tried, y’know? I tried so hard and it wasn’t enough.”

Sam didn’t totally follow but he thought he got the jist. “Well, sometimes the circumstances are too much to push through. I don’t know if Riley and I coulda done it when we were twenty or whatever. We were older, had known each other longer, been through hell, y’know? It’s hard to let go of that.”

Steve nodded again and looked over at Sam. In the city lights, his eyes looked like a million different galaxies. “You seem to have restarted fairly well,” Sam said.

Steve grinned over at Sam, unadulterated and happy. “Yeah. My ma always said we’d find our way back to each other. It’s actually how I ended up here. Tony and his scheming.”

Sam’s eyebrows raised. “Tony made a show to set you up?”

“Tony made a show to drag Bucky out of hiding.”

“You don’t think he deserves to hide?”

Steve shrugged. “Wasn’t up to me. By the time he asked me to host, his people had already reached out to Bucky. It took months of bugging him. He sent me in at one point.”

“So you did have a hand in it.”

“Bucky already had half a foot in the door. He’s a show off, no matter how much he tried to restart his life.”

Sam grinned and nodded. Barnes was definitely a show off when he wasn’t being pouty. Even when he was being pouty, he was a show off. The kinds of flavor combinations he came up with would rival even the oddest chef out there. Rival Barton. And it was all because he knew he could pull it off.

“Sam, can I ask you something?”

“You can ask. Doesn’t mean I’m going to answer,” Sam said.

Steve smiled and shifted over to reach for Sam’s wrist. “What if I asked if I could kiss you?”

“Steve…” Sam started, thinking of Bucky with him and Bucky with Steve.

“We’ve already talked about it. We’ve done it before. Three people. Peggy and us used to do it. But it’s all up to you. We can take this however you want.”

Sam turned his hand over in Steve’s grasp and he let out a shaky breath. “I mean. I don’t know. I mean… I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve barely dated.”

“Yeah, I don’t believe that,” Steve teased.

“Shut up. I’m serious. I just…” He swallowed and looked over at Steve.

“Let me give you a teaser?” Steve suggested, shifting to kneel over Sam’s legs on his chair. Sam didn’t stop him. Steve’s mouth was soft against Sam’s and the kiss made him melt back into the seat. Steve damn sure knew what he was doing and he was so confident and gentle with it that Sam found himself just moving with Steve, keeping their mouths pressed together to keep Steve’s mouth working so damn well against his.

Steve’s hand fell to Sam’s zipper, undoing his jeans quicker than Sam thought was possible and then getting his own slacks open. Sam worried about cameras and press and Maria Hill, but none of that really mattered enough when Sateve was shoving their boxers down and taking both their lengths in his hand. He licked his hand before beginning to pump their lengths together and Sam honestly went cross-eyed. He probably stopped breathing, but he wasn’t really paying attention to anything happening above his waist.

“Oh, God. Fuck, Steve,” Sam panted, holding his hand over Steve’s hand. It wasn’t hardly enough contact and he dipped his head to snag Steve’s mouth back into a kiss. Steve grinned and kissed him again before trailing his mouth along Sam’s jaw.

“I guess I won’t leave a bruise,” he groaned, pressing his face to Sam’s neck as hips hips rolled into Sam’s.

“Too many cameras?” Sam asked thinly.

“No, it’d make Bucky jealous.”

“Trust me, he left his mark last time.”

Steve hummed and sat up, scooting down the chair until he was kneeling at the foot of it and he could pull Sam down too. Sam yelped, but adjusted quickly, not in any mood to give Steve a reason to stop whatever he was planning.

What he was planning was to swallow Sam down in one go. “Holy shit, Steve!” Sam groaned, fingers going to Steve’s short hair. He’d meant to pull him away, get some kind of relief from the overwhelming pleasure, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it once he’d had his fingers in Steve’s hair. 

Sam lasted an embarrassingly short amount of time with Steve’s bright blue eyes looking up at him and his perfect mouth around his cock. And as dopey and satisfied as he was by the time he’d come, he still managed to get his jeans back up to his waist, crawl off the chair, and push Steve back to pull his slacks down further.

“Your turn, gorgeous. Gotta earn my keep somehow, right?”

“You’ve already convinced Buck. But I don’t mind hearing the argument myself,” Steve said, grinning at Sam and laying back.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam continued to rub Bucky’s thigh even as the Netflix queue on Steve’s TV ran out of things to suggest to them. Bucky, with his head in Steve’s lap and his legs thrown over Sam’s, continued to chatter with Steve, throwing rhymes and lyrics back and forth.

“You’ve still got it, Buck. You could jump right back into music,” Steve said, petting his fingers over Bucky’s hair.

“Nah, I’m not interested in going back to music. Playing for friends in my living room is as close as I’m ever going to get to it,” Bucky said, waving his hand in front of his face.

“You know Stark’s gonna connive a way to make you sing on the show.”

“Sam sings when he bakes.”

Sam looked up from the middle distance and frowned. “I do not.”

“You do. You’re always humming 80s music and then you start singing the chorus.”

Sam blushed and, sure, at home he played music when he was baking, but he  _ didn’t sing _ . “I do not!”

“Dude, I stand right in front of you. I think I know what I hear.”

“Daken would give me more shit if I did.”

“What’s your read on that guy?” Steve asked. “I keep giving him the benefit of the doubt, but there’s something about him.”

“He’s hot,” Bucky said.

“He doesn’t talk a lot. He’s always pissed off if things aren’t going exactly his way. But he gets creative when he needs to,” Sam said with a shrug. He hadn’t paid much attention to his station-mate.

“What’s Natasha’s food like?” Bucky asked.

“Don’t you know her?” Sam said. 

“Yeah, but not as a baker. She danced in a lot of my videos,” he explained, and that was why she was familiar to Sam. That made a lot of sense.

“She’s actually pretty good, for someone who’s never baked before,” Steve said.

“Barton said she would be.”

“Barton would know,” Bucky agreed.

“Why? Is he a dancer too?”

Bucky laughed and shook his head. “Fuck no. They’ve been together for years though, so he’s definitely had her food.”

“Barton and Natasha are dating?” Steve asked with a frown.

“Yeah, you didn’t know that?” Bucky asked, looking up at Steve with big blue eyes and a contented little smile. Sam wanted to look away but then Bucky turned those eyes on him and Sam remembered he was supposed to be here. That was the whole point of this date night.

“I had no idea. Clint is so aloof all the time. If he talked about her, I figured he was just choosing the prettiest girl in the room,” Steve said.

“Fuck you, I’m the prettiest girl in the room,” Bucky laughed. He sat up suddenly and Sam could tell it made his head spin because he had to put a hand on Sam’s thigh to stay upright. “Let’s stop dancing around this. I’m fucking starving and I want some of the muffins Sam brought over.”

“You could’ve eaten, Buck,” Steve sighed and Sam wondered how common this argument was.

Bucky raised a challenging eyebrow at Steve and didn’t say anything. He turned his attention to Sam and leaned forward to kiss him, also without saying anything.

Kissing Steve was great. Steve was a fantastic kisser. But kissing Bucky made Sam want to quit his job, move out of his apartment, and do nothing but keep his mouth attached to Bucky’s. He still wasn’t over going light headed as soon as Bucky was kissing him and he hadn’t memorized the feeling of Bucky’s lips against his because he forgot to think.

Sam leaned back against the couch and Bucky crawled into his lap, hands coming up to either side of his face. Sam was just getting into it when Bucky was suddenly sitting--no, being being pulled back. Steve held Bucky’s back to his chest, kissing over his shoulder and pulling his shirt up blindly. When they went crashing backwards, Sam shifted forward to get his mouth on the exposed skin of Bucky’s stomach.

Bucky hitched in a breath, one arm going around Steve’s neck and the other to Sam’s shoulder, since he had no hair for Bucky to hold onto. Steve ran hot and Bucky ran cold. It had led to Bucky pressed up against Sam in bed the other night, tangled so tightly together Sam couldn’t get up to pee. Even now, flushed and moving, his skin was still cool to the touch.

Sam got his sweats pulled down and started jerking Bucky off, earning a high pitched keen and Bucky’s fingers desperately scrabbling at his shirt. “You ain’t gotta tease me, Wilson.”

Sam grinned up at him, tracing his fingers over Bucky’s hips slowly. “I’m definitely gonna tease the hell out of you, Barnes.” He leaned down to kiss along his waist and the tight pull of skin between his hips and the stick-and-poke Pisces constellation tattoo on his upper thigh. Bucky whined and squirmed again, seeking out Steve’s mouth and finally relaxing into the couch with a huff.

It was a fucking sight to behold and Sam just wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. He assumed Steve and Bucky were going to work out whatever weird moment of adventure they were having and leave Sam to go back to New York on his own. Still, they had the whole show to enjoy each other and he wasn’t going to let his nerves get the better of him with this.

With one more grin up at Bucky, he licked a stripe up the back of his cock and then swallowed him halfway down.

~ ~ ~ 

Daken won the mimicking decoration challenge in the morning, and the original decorating challenge in the evening.

“What?” he snapped at the contestants who eyed his complex, gorgeous ice and snow themed cake with distrust. “I’m gay. It’s the stereotype I live up to.”

Bucky snorted in front of him. Sam had watched Daken and his large hands and scowly face carefully craft each water-clear sugar snowflake. Sam had also seen Daken ‘accidentally’ bump into Clint’s station and send his sugar pearls flying. Daken was a big guy, but there was no way his hips that got that out of control.

Someone else, whose decorations didn’t come close to what Clint was able to finally put up, ended up going home, but it put Clint on a mission to stay out of the bottom two. Sam and Natasha were sitting next to each other on the observation wrap around while Clint practiced some piping techniques on the floor below. They were both kicking their legs and occasionally each other’s ankles and exchanging easy grins back and forth.

Natasha was the one to break their friendly silence. “So, are you with Bucky or Steve?” she asked with a sharp smirk. Sam felt like she already knew the answer and said as much. “I’ve seen you with your tongue down both of their throats, sure. But you can be with one of them.”

Sam shrugged. “I guess I’m with both of them. We’re all together.”

Natasha hummed in understanding and maybe approval. “That’s complicated, Wilson,” she said.

“It’s not.” And it wasn’t. Separate or all together, the three of them worked really well. Sam had thought it was all going to be sex and then they’d disappear to their own rooms. But Steve talked about anything he wanted to and Bucky was a cuddler, surprisingly, and Sam was always too exhausted to get up. Besides, his room really was next to Maria’s and the thought of sneaking back in didn’t sit well with him. God, what was he? A teenager? At least his sister wasn’t around to rat on him, he supposed.

“Bucky’s pretty closed off. He warmed up to you like a moth to flame. What was that all about?”

Sam glanced over at her with a frown. It was something he’d kind of assumed before the show. That anyone who disappeared from fame and celebrity like that--from Steve Rogers like that--was probably closed off. But after meeting him, the thoughts had left Sam’s mind. Not that Bucky was  _ nice  _ by a long shot, but he had just accepted Sam into his world.

“Maybe he’s not as closed off as you think he is,” Sam suggested.

“No. I know him pretty well. He’s shy.”

Sam licked his lower lip and lifted his shoulder before dropping them again. “I dunno. I guess we just get each other.”

“Or the sex is that good!” Barton called up.

“Turn your aides down!” Nat shouted back. He snickered and went back to the decorations. “Is the sex that good?” she teased, looking over at Sam.

Sam laughed. “I hope so. I think so.” They moved well together, anticipating what the other wanted and how to give it to them. Even though they were all different, the sex seemed fantastic for everyone.

“I hope it all works out for you three. Just...don’t hurt him. He’s eager to please when he likes someone and even the best people can take advantage of that.” Natasha squeezed his arm and untangled herself from their hiding spot. “I’ll talk to you later, Sam.”

Sam nodded, heart racing and aching in his chest. “Yeah. I’ll see you, Nat.”

~ ~ ~

Sam woke up in the middle of the night needing to pee and stop whatever was hitting his ribs. He freed an arm from around Steve’s waist and turned over to reach for Bucky’s elbow. Bucky was turned away from Sam and his arms were pistoning back and forth, like he was trying to shove something away.

“Buck,” Sam muttered, trying to hold onto his elbow and failing miserably. “Bucky, wake up.” He sat up and caught an elbow in his stomach which did not help him needing to pee. He moved down the bed to climb over Bucky’s legs and then shook his shoulder. “Bucky, wake up.”

And Bucky came to pretty instantly, bright eyes snapping open and body lurching up. Sam held out his hands and, though he eyed them with distrust, Bucky ended up collapsing into his arms.

“Hey, easy, it was just a dream,” Sam soothed, rubbing a hand over Bucky’s back. “You’re okay. You’re here. I’m right here.”

Bucky was better than Riley. Riley came out of nightmares like he’d been drowning. He was loud and flailed around and took forever to focus on Sam’s face next to him. Bucky’s eyes were sharp on Sam’s face and he brought his fingers up to his cheek slowly, like he didn’t think Sam was actually there.

“What’s going on?” he mumbled.

“You had a nightmare,” Sam explained. He got back into the bed, pushing Bucky to the middle and wrapping his arms around him tightly. Bucky pressed close, like he always did, and hid his face in Sam’s neck. “You’re at one of Stark’s buildings, filming a cooking show. You’re kind of kicking ass. You’ve got me and Steve in bed with you. A few hours ago, you were fucked to an inch of your life and really enjoyed it.”

Bucky coughed out what might’ve been a laugh. They laid in silence for a few more minutes as Bucky’s breathing evened out and his breath slowly started warm Sam’s shoulder. “You’d probably think I was a coward and an idiot if you knew what I dreamed of,” he muttered eventually.

Sam shook his head. “No way. Never, Buck.”

“It’s so stupid compared to what you’ve been through. Sex, drugs, rock and roll.”

“You were a kid. Of course that shit is gonna affect you.”

“Yeah, and you were shooting at people when you were that age.”

Sam blushed a little and Bucky was close enough to feel it. “We all have our battles. I don’t think it’s stupid to ahve nightmares, no matter what they’re born out of. My sister has nightmares about Pokemon.”

Bucky huffed another half laugh. “It’s part of what drew me to Steve in the first place. He was in one of my videos.”

Sam nodded. “I remember. It was basically every male-attracted person’s wet dream.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to burn a blush over his cheeks. “We ended up sleeping together and he was the first person that seemed like he actually looked at me, not through me. I got to be a little popular. People would talk about how easy it was to pull me around in bed. Sharp hips and all. They just wanted to say they slept with the Winter Soldier.”

“The leader singer of Winter Soldiers,” Sam corrected.

“Yeah, but I’m  _ the  _ Winter Soldier.”

Sam rolled his eyes and nudged Bucky to keep talking. “Anyway, when Steve and I fell into bed. Well, the couch on the set anyway. He didn’t reach for my hips or lick at my collarbones or whatever. He held my hands and he stared at my eyes. I realized no one had ever looked at me before. And he wasn’t just  _ looking  _ at me. He was looking  _ at  _ me. He was seeing me. And I fell in love right then.”

Sam nodded. It felt like something he could understand, even if he couldn’t relate to it. “That’s normal, Buck. I mean, not for regular people, but Steve filled something in your formative years. And, I mean, you two do kinda seem like you’re destined for each other, right?”

“Well, we didn’t just happen to meet on the set of a random TV show, but sure,” Bucky joked, though he still sounded a tired. He leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Sam’s jaw. “Sometimes in my dreams, it’s not Steve or you, that I’m falling into bed with. It’s someone who looks right through me. Who bruises my hips and doesn’t give a shit if they finish me off or not. A producer, an actor, someone in the band, someone in the system, whatever. And I feel like that kid again, scared and alone and unloved. I feel like I’m gonna be stuck there for all my life.

“Waking up looking at you was really good though,” he added, rubbing his hand over Sam’s ribs.

Sam kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad I was there then.”

“Stay,” Bucky murmured softly.

“As long as you want,” Sam promised.

~ ~ ~

The challenge was cookies and everyone was in a terrible mood. Cookies, despite being the things that most children baked on their own for the first time, were fucking hard when they had to be uniform and delicious and original. Clint had already burnt a batch and Natasha’s lava center had cooked through. Even Carol couldn’t get her fancy shapes to bake at the same speed.

Sam had been sitting on the ground for ten minutes, waiting for the exact moment to take his pan out. The light in the stove combined with heat waves and the patterned inside of the door was making Sam’s eyes drift in and out of focus. Bucky and Daken were both cursing and making something of a melody out of it. Finally Sam sat forward and grabbed the door and an oven mitt at the same time.

He even scooted forward when Daken turned from his station. He reached into the oven and had the pan halfway out when Daken suddenly said, “Sorry,” and Sam looked up to see what trouble he was getting into in time to see Daken kick the oven door closed on Sam’s hand.

~

~

~

Sam screamed.

He wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do in the scenario. His other hand scrabbled uselessly at the oven door, but he was in so much pain that he couldn’t make his muscles work. Bucky must’ve vaulted the countertop because he was the one yanking the door open before Daken was even a step away.

It couldn’t have taken more than five seconds between the ‘apology’ and Bucky pulling Sam into his arms, hand free and metaphorically on fire. Sam wasn’t quite sure it wasn’t literally on fire. He’d never seen his dark skin so red.

Sam knew his face was in Bucky’s neck and wondered if he was the only thing keeping Bucky from running after Daken. Every part of his body felt flushed and swollen and Sam really thought he was about to die.

A wet cloth got wrapped around his hand and medics helped him to his feet and Steve was there and Bucky was there and someone was pulling Daken off to the side and Sam was in medical and they were putting burn lattice on and...and...and…

Daken went home, obviously. No one seemed to know what drove him to do something like that, when most of his antics were harmless. Taking ice cream out of the freezer accidentally. Knocking Barton’s pearls over. Switching things around in the pantry. Sam thought it might’ve been the pressure of the mid season climb. Most of the contestants who were bad at baking had gone home and several of the celebrities had left as well. They were a top six and top five was the beginning of cash prizes. 

They delayed filming for several days until Sam could heal a little and all the extra cookies went to him the first night. 

~ ~ ~

Sam stared at the pan in the oven with a heavy, calculating gaze. The bandages around his hand felt like they suddenly weighed ten pounds more and he shifted to the other side of the oven to come at the pan from a different angle. There was no way he was getting it out with one hand without dropping the entire cake and water bath.

“How are you gonna work this out?” Steve called, grinning at Sam for the cameras. His saving grace was that Sam could see the worry in his eyes. “You don’t want to leave that cake in there for too long, Wilson.”

Something clattered at Bucky’s station but Sam didn’t have the time to waste looking over. It didn’t matter anyway, because ten seconds later, Bucky was next to him, opening the oven and using his prosthetic to pull the pan out, keeping it even and steady as he set it on the counter space.

“Don’t be stupid. Ask for help,” he said, face a brilliant red as he stalked back to his work area. Sam glanced back at Steve who was watching with raised eyebrows. That was definitely making the cut after the show from the last episode. They’d all made the decision not to come public with their relationship status on the show, but people were about to get an idea. Sam didn’t mind so much.

~ ~ ~ 

About the fourth time Sam hissed in pain after dragging his hand over Steve’s back, the man picked him up around the waist and set him on the foot of the bed. “You sit there,” he ordered with a nod. “And jerk yourself off with your good hand while Buck and I put on a show.”

Sam was already so damn hard, he couldn’t hardly argue the case. But...then again...the reason he’d dragged the two of them into Bucky’s room in the first place was because there was no telling how much time they had left. Sam had won the challenge today, but seen Clint get sent home after he’d won the challenge last week. There were no guarantees this late in the competition and Sam could not go back to New York without a few extra stolen moments with the guys in front of him.

Steve already had his hand down Bucky’s boxers and the two of them kissing each other like that was enough to keep Sam where he was put for a second longer. But he managed to tear his eyes away long enough to put himself against Steve’s back and hug his waist.

Steve laughed softly, letting go of Bucky to hold onto Sam’s arm. “What’re you doin’ back there, huh? Can’t see nothin’.”

“Just wanna touch you for a while,” Sam mumbled back. “I don’t want to leave.”

“No one’s goin’ nowhere, baby. Just asked you to sit out tonight while you get used to not havin’ those bandages on.” 

Something swelled in Sam’s belly and bloomed in his chest and he sat back heavily, tears springing in his eyes and slipping down his cheeks. Bucky crawled out from under Steve and frowned, pulling Sam into his lap. “Jeez, Wilson. If we’d known you’d be like that, we wouldn’t’a thought of it,” he murmured, kissing Sam’s temple and then his cheekbone.

“I just...I just...love you,” Sam whimpered, like it was something dirty that he was admitting for the first time. He hadn’t felt like this since he’d come out to his best friend in high school. Only now, he knew it wasn’t dirty, wasn’t a bad thing. Just, maybe, a little silly to have fallen in love with two celebrities he’d never see again. 

Sometime between arriving at the Tower and crying in Bucky Barnes’ bed, Sam had become less interested in not embarrassing himself on national television, and more interested in baking his ass off so he’d get another week with Steve and Bucky. 

Bucky’s arms tightened around Sam and Steve kneeled in front of him, wiping away tears with his thumb. “Sammy,” he murmured softly, leaning forward for a sweet kiss.

“I don’t want to leave you. Leave this. I can’t… I haven’t…” No relationship he’d had had felt as right as this one. Steve and Bucky weren’t just celebrities anymore. They were Sam’s right and left sides. They were bed warmers and confidants and work out partners. They were there when he turned his head to say something and there when he needed someone to catch him in a free fall. How was he supposed to walk away from that?

“Hey, this doesn’t have to end.”

“I can’t live in California. I’ve got a life in New York. It was hard enough to come here for this. I can’t just.. .I don’t want to…” Sam choked off again and Bucky kissed his head.

“I love you too,” he finally said and Sam felt, at once, better and worse. “We’ll make it work, alright?”

“That’s what lovers do.”

“‘Til the end of the line,” Bucky said.

Steve nodded and held Sam’s face. “‘Til the end of the line.”

~ ~ ~

“Natasha,” Peggy said with a solemn look in her eyes and Sam let his hopes rise in his chest. “I’m sorry. You will not be continuing to the final three.”

To their credit, neither Steve, Sam, nor Bucky turned around to look at each other, but they also didn’t stick around for clean up or parties or goodbyes. Goodbyes always lasted at least a day on set anyway.

Steve had them both in his arms as soon as Sam’s door closed behind them and Sam laughed, still in shock and disbelief. Bucky leaned over and kissed him soundly, which did not help level out Sam’s headspace.

“We’re in the endgame now!” he laughed and kissed Sam again. “I’m so fucking proud of you! You didn’t even want to be here and now you’re in the finals!”

“I’m so proud of both of you!” Steve said, holding one hand against both of their cheeks. “God, I couldn’t have planned for this to go any better. You’re both so damn amazing. One day I’m gonna live up to you two.”

Sam laughed and kissed Steve and proved that Steve was already pretty damn amazing, even when he wasn’t doing much of anything.

“The end of the line!” Bucky shouted, popping a cork of some bottle he’d dug out from somewhere.

“The end of the line!” Steve agreed, the mantra Sam had only just been invited into.

Steve let go of Sam’s waist to follow after Bucky as he searched for cups. Sam frowned after them before hurrying to the bedroom. “That’s the song, isn’t it? And the bakery?”

Bucky glanced over at him and grinned, looking young and happy, happier than Sam had seen him all throughout filming. “It’s how I promised Steve I’d come back.”

“TEOTL. A hidden message just for me,” Steve said from the other side of the room. 

“For both of you now,” Bucky said and pulled Sam closer by his shirt. Sam let Bucky pour champagne in his mouth and then kissed him again, both of them licking the flavor right back out. Sam curled his fingers in Bucky’s hair and swayed his hips with the music Steve had put on. When the man’s strong body was behind his, Sam let his head fall back and Steve’s hands were immediately on his chest, mouth on his neck.

It didn’t take long for the champagne to turn to kisses and the dancing to grinding and the grinding and kissing to a collapsed heap of adoration and celebration in the bed.

Two more episodes, Sam thought. And then the rest of their lives.


	5. Chapter 5

“Welcome to the beginning of the end, Bakers,” Steve greeted. “You’re officially in the downward slope of the season. Three very talented bakers are left and on this week’s episodes, we thought we’d give you all a handicap.”

“Hey, I didn’t do nothing wrong!” Bucky objected.

Peggy shrugged. “This week, you’ll be paired with some really terrible bakers. Carol, meet your partners.”

Peggy stepped aside and a little girl came running out of the set wall, launching herself into Carol’s arms. Carol was across the kitchen before Sam even realized she’d moved.

“Lieutenant Trouble!” she laughed, spinning the girl around. “There’s my favorite kitchen aide. Where’s the one that gets in my way?”

The girl pointed to where she’d come from and a woman made her way around the the empty stations until she and Carol could wrap each other in their arms, exchanging kisses and watery greetings.

“Bakers, meet Maria and Monica Rambuea, Carol’s wife and daughter,” Steve said, looking about as full of adoration as he could.

“I like the name Lieutenant Trouble,” Peggy said. She looked at Bucky with an easy smile. “We’ll be down a host for this episode, because there was no one worse in your life in a kitchen than our own Steven Grant Rogers,” she said, letting Steve dash over to Bucky’s side. They didn’t have the physical greeting that Maria and Carol did, but Sam could tell Bucky’s anxiety eased. It was hard to fathom someone from your life coming into the show when there wasn’t much outside of the show.

“And Mr. Wilson,” Peggy said. And suddenly Riley was right there next to her. Sam’s breath caught in his throat and he took a shaky step forward before stopping. It was fine because Riley made the journey for him, wrapping him in a tight hug and lifting Sam off the ground.

“Oh my God,” Sam laughed, bringing his hands up to Riley’s face. All these weeks, the chaos of the show and his personal life, had felt wholly unfulfilled because he couldn’t text Riley about it constantly. He wanted Riley’s opinions about everything, wanted him to irritate the crap out of Sam while he was cooking, wanted his terrible dancing while Sam had a meltdown, just all of it. “You look so good. Who’s feeding you?” he joked, tugging at his haircut and then hugging him tightly again.

“I’ve missed you so much, Sammy. There’s so much to say,” Riley answered. He pulled away eventually and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s the make up,” he joked. “I actually look like a zombie living off of granola bars and marshmallow fluff.”

“You and him would get along great then,” Sam laughed, gesturing over to Bucky. When he glanced over, Bucky was already looking at him, face blank and searching. Sam swallowed and passed it off as him putting a face to the all the stories.

“You’ve got to tell me everything about everyone. I’ve been watching like a crazy person. You’re doing so well, man. And everything you make looks so damn good. I’m pissed you weren’t mailing it home.”

“Trust me, if I could’ve, I would’ve for you.”

“Bakers, today I’m going to give you the choice of your favorite recipe with a story. It should probably involve the people standing next to you,” Peggy said with a smile. “You’ll have two hours, so make it something a little easy. Afterall, you’re working with a hand tied behind your back.”

“Am I hearing pecan pie?” Carol laughed, pretending to lean down to listen to Monica.

“Sammy, please make my chocolate muffins. I’ve missed them so damn much these past few weeks. The ones you left me only lasted three days.”

“That’s your own damn fault,” Sam chastised. But he quickly scrawled the ingredients and sent Riley to get them out of the pantry. Sam glanced over at Steve and Bucky who were peeling apples.

Sam and Riley actually weren’t terrible partners. As long as Sam handed Riley the right ingredients and measuring cup, Riley could get the job done. He just wasn’t allowed to decide between baking powder and soda and a teaspoon or tablespoon. 

While they worked, they talked and talked and talked. “Tell me about the chemistry between you and Captain America,” Riley said with an obscene movement of his hips and waggle of his eyebrows.

“Tell me about the cat. Did you send her back to the fourth circle?” Sam jabbed back.

“Oh my God,” Riley said later. “I’ve got to tell you about a new sugar, sugar and honey.” Holding up sugar and honey. 

“Yours?”

Riley grinned and nodded. “We met at your group. I was hanging out with the new guy running it. She is just..the greatest, Sam.”

Sam’s chest warmed and he smiled at Riley, tugging him into a warm hug. “That’s amazing, dude. I told you you’d find the perfect match.”

They talked and Riley distracted him and everything felt normal again. The anxiety and terror melted away. Sam didn’t even mind Riley’s dancing and humming as he wrapped himself around Sam’s back, pretending to mix the ganache with him Patrick-Swazye- _ Ghost _ style. 

Sam glanced over at Bucky again but found those blue eyes on him already, face blank. But Sam could tell something had hurt him. There was a pinch to his eyebrows and the left side of his mouth had curled inwards just a hair. Sam didn’t think the muffins were good enough to warrant that expression. They were decadent, but homey. He had no wild ideas that he’d be beating Bucky and Carol.

Riley pinched his side and pretended to reach for the oven, drawing Sam’s attention back to him. “I’m gonna kick your ass if you touch that door, man!” he warned, grabbing a towel and swatting at Riley’s thigh with it.

He’d just talk to Bucky later and everything would be fine. God, Riley was here and everything was fine now.

They got a chance to hash it out while Peggy and a few of the previous contestants--back as temporary judges--tasted their desserts and discussed a winner. Their loved ones had gone away to a separate room and Sam could only imagine what Steve and Riley were chattering about. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a fucking guy on the outside, huh?” Bucky demanded in a low voice.

Sam, who’d been going in for a lazy kiss, stopped and pulled back. “What are you talking about?”

“As if! You and Riley are obviously a thing.”

Sam frowned harder before barking out a laugh, feeling a little defensive. “No, we’re not. We never have been. We kissed once because we thought we were going to die. And when we didn’t, we complained about the other for a week after.”

“You act like an old married couple!”

Sam was at a loss. “You knew about Riley. I talked about him constantly.”

“You said you had a roommate! Not a life partner!”

Tears pricked at Sam’s nose and he didn’t even know why. He hadn’t done anything wrong. “Buck, will you just trust me on this? Riley and I were never, are not, and will never be a thing. You think he wouldn’t be a handful enough? I’d go two-time that ball of energy with two more big personalities on live TV?”

Bucky’s eyes searched over Sam’s face, but the fear and adrenaline in them slowly dimmed. “We’re not technically live,” he eventually grumbled and Sam felt a little bit of the tension deflate in his chest. That was as close to winning as he was going to get. Especially since Maria was calling them back to the stage and Peggy’s eyes lingered on Sam for a moment too long as they walked to their stations.

Win a battle with Bucky, lose the war on TV.

~ ~ ~

“Where’s Buck?” Sam panted as Steve tore open his shirt and kissed a hot line down Sam’s chest.

Steve shrugged and sucked at a protrusion from Sam’s ribs. “He said he had to take care of something. Said he’d be back in time to sleep.”

“Shouldn’t we be having celebration sex?” Sam asked. Their little spat from earlier was still sitting too heavy in his mind and he wanted to know Bucky was okay.

“Consolation sex first,” Steve murmured, retracing bruises on Sam’s thigh from the last time he was down there. 

Sam couldn’t very well argue with that.

Bucky was true to it word. Sam had just caught his breath and started to slip into a half-sleep when Bucky was worming his way into Sam’s free side. Sam lifted his arm and dropped it back around Bucky’s ribs before nuzzling into his shoulder.

“Good evening,” he murmured but Bucky stayed as quiet as he’d been on set and after the finals announcement. It was fine with Sam. Bucky was here and he was ready for bed anyway. After a few minutes, Steve’s phone rang and, after a series of curses and yawning, he’d rolled out of bed to take the call in the hall. 

“You probably think I’m a monster,” Bucky mumbled against Sam’s chest. The heat hadn’t even left from Steve’s side of the bed. Was it a Steve issue and not a Sam issue?

“You’re talking again?” Sam asked.

Bucky nodded, stubble dragging over Sam’s skin. Sam brushed his fingers through Bucky’s hair and looked down at him. “I don’t think you’re a monster,” he said softly.

“You do. The whole world did when I left him like I did.”

So it was a Steve issue. “You were just kids. No one’s holding a personal grudge against you for something you did when you were twenty-two.”

“You’d be surprised,” Bucky snorted. He fell quiet again and then his breathing evened out so much that Sam assumed he’d fallen asleep again. “I never stopped loving Steve. I didn’t want to leave him.”

Sam bit the bait line. “So why do it?”

Bucky let out a long breath, and Sam took back all the joking from before. This was the saddest he’d ever seen Bucky. “When I was in the system, I got caught up in this… I don’t know. I’m not a fucking lawyer or whatever. One of the foster houses I was in, the one I was in for the longest time, the one I met Clint in, it was a bad place full of dangerous people. Every time I left, I somehow ended up right back with the same people. When I aged out of the system, one of the guys in the house followed me everywhere.”

“You were living with them while you were making music?”

Bucky brought his hands up to his face and nodded raggedly. “The man fostering us sponsored all of it.” Sam let out a breath and shook his head. He didn’t speak celebrity or lawyer but that sounded bad. “It was part of the reason I stopped making music. He owned everything I made until I turned eighteen, but didn’t say how much I had to make. I just waited until I was out of the house.”

“So what’s that got to do with Steve?”

“When I started making music again, Pierce, the foster, came after me. He threatened everything. Me, my music, my producer…”

“He threatened Steve.”

“I was fucking terrified. It was one thing to have him on my ass, but Steve? I couldn’t stand the thought.” Bucky turned over to prop himself up on his elbow. “So I ran away. I made it public and messy so no one would think of him when they wanted at me. I got a job in a kitchen and disappeared.”

“So why do the show now? I mean, you’re in the public eye again. Everyone is talking about you.”

“He died last year. And I knew I had to do something crazy or I’d be living in fear all my life anyway. Constantly looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was coming after me, even though there’s not anyone to come after me.”

Sam nodded and continued brushing his fingers through Bucky’s hair. It had always calmed him down before and it seems to be working proactively as Bucky struggled through what he wanted to say.

“On set earlier, there was a guy. Tall, dark haired, mean looking. He was in the house too. He was Pierce’s favorite. Always followed me to shows, posted up in hotel rooms next to me. I’m pretty sure he had a camera in my bedroom when we were teenagers.”

“What was he doing here?” Sam asked, guiding Bucky on. It usually helped him work through his thoughts.

“Damned if I know, but I know it wasn’t anything good and it wouldn’t have been what he told any of the producers. I’m worried…”

“That he’s after you again?”

“Us. He’s always trying to ruin whatever good thing I have going for me.”

“Hey, he can’t do anything. People know us and our names and where we are.”

“He can ruin  _ this _ . The show and us being together and everything.”

“I don’t think he’s doing that. I mean, he can’t get Steve kicked off the show.”

Bucky groaned and hid his face against Sam’s chest. “I’m just saying. The other shoe is gonna drop. It doesn’t take long for him to destroy everything. He’s already set something into motion. I know it.”

“If he did, we’ll face it together, Buck. You ain’t a teenager no more. You’ve got a system around you. No one’s gonna get at you. We’re right here.”

Bucky made a small sound and nodded weakly. “I just don’t want the two of you hurt.”

“Hey, nothing he can do is gonna hurt us. We’re gonna be okay,” Sam promised. He’d survived enough in one lifetime--they all had--that one more hard wall wasn’t going to deter them. “It’s ‘til the end of the line, right?”

“Yeah. The end of the line.”


	6. Chapter 6

The other shoe dropped three days later. 

Sam Wilson had never had any intention to meet Nick Fury. He’d just about given up when he’d heard Fury was the leading producer for the show. When he’d been cut, he thought he was in the clear. And, yet, here he was, staring at the man’s immaculate desk. He felt very much so like a scolded school child, head hung low along with Steve’s. Bucky still looked furious.

The man eventually stalked into the room, banging the door open and causing Sam to jump. Maria Hill was quick on his tail. “Do any of you want to explain this?” he asked, throwing a tablet down in front of them with approximately a thousand new stories and blogs about the same thing. Steve had found it this morning before this meeting had even been called.

A maid at the hotel had told all about sordid nights and mixed laundry and constant bedsheet dry cleaning. Despite the NDA everyone involved with the show had had to sign, the story got out and the woman had quit. Supposedly, she’d told Stark that she’d come into a windfall of money and didn’t need his billionaire scraps anymore.

Bucky had instantly blamed Brock. (“Doesn’t she know his money is just Pierce’s and that’s billionaire scraps too?”)

“How does something like this not come up until the finale of the show?” Fury demanded.

Bucky shrugged. “Didn’t think I had to report who I was fucking to the network,” he said coldly.

“A little forewarning would be nice.”

“Mr. Fury, with all do respect,” Steve started. “This is a violation of our privacy. Someone sold our secrets to the media. We made sure not to engage in any PDA anywhere near the cameras or on the show. And I assure you, it had nothing to do with my judging. I mean, Sam didn’t even make the finals.”

“I’m not worried about images of biased decision making on a celebrity baking show. I’m worried about a sex scandal on a celebrity baking show! This show will never get another season. If it did, it’d be the sex show. We might as well change our name to The Bachelor.”

“If there were women involved--” Bucky started but Fury held up a hand.

“Don’t even finish that stupid ass question.”

“We’ll make a statement. Come out as a unit. There’s no reason to deny it. You can spin it as a love story, not just sex. It  _ wasn’t  _ just sex,” Sam said firmly. “The world already knew about Steve and Bucky. And no one is going to remember my name in a few weeks. Bucky and I are going to go back to the life we were living. It’ll be something that comes up in stupid listicles once a year, and next season you’ll have something else ridiculous to talk about.

“Mr. Fury, someone tried to burn my hand off and the public forgot about it because the next few episodes were tear jerkers. This is not the rock bottom you think it is.”

Fury glared at them and Maria clicked her tongue in distaste. Still, the producer took the tablet back from them and turned off the screen. “If any of you so much as step out of line for the next several weeks, I’m going to have your social media presence erased from the internet for a year.”

“It’s blackmail, Fury. People from my past are trying to make sure I stay where they want me. I’m not going to let that happen. And I’m not going to give up my relationships to keep them, or you, happy,” Bucky said. He stood up and adjusted the jacket he was wearing. “I have a bake to get ready for, if you don’t mind.”

Without waiting for a response, he left and, with an apologetic glance at Fury, Steve followed him. Fury watched them go and then looked at Sam. “I thought you’d be a level headed one,” he said.

Sam shrugged. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” And he left too.

~ ~ ~

Sam tugged at Bucky’s arm to get him to tighten it around Sam’s waist, drawing him back. “Where are you gonna put that big old thing in the little ass bakery you bought?” Sam asked, grinning at the second place trophy hanging out of the moving box in the corner of the bedroom.

Riley had decided he needed to move in with his new beau immediately and Bucky made the quick decision to move his bakery from the West Coast hideaway he’d holed up in to avoid his past and New York, back home. And with that, he’d need a place to stay and Sam just happened to have a room open now.

Bucky grumbled behind him and pressed his face between Sam’s shoulder blades. “Stop talking to me this early in the morning.”

Steve came out of the bathroom in time to catch Sam elbowing Bucky’s ribs and tsk-ed at them lightly, crawling into the bed on Sam’s front side. “Can’t you two behave for five minutes?”

Sam shook his head against Steve’s shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist. “I’m being perfectly civil. He’s the one being a grouch.”

“Mmm, maybe we should lift his spirits,” Steve suggested, earning a groan from Bucky. Sam laughed and turned over, pushing Bucky onto his back and shifting to his other side so he could kiss Bucky’s neck while Steve started in on his chest.

“You’re both the worst,” Bucky accused, but brought his fingers up to their hair.

With a warm flush to his skin and his soul, Sam thought he might make chocolate muffins later.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [TUMBLR](https://abarbaricyalp.tumblr.com/) to gush about Sam Wilson (or baking!)
> 
> Find the AMAZING art and artist [also on Tumblr](https://tomeofthecrud.tumblr.com/post/188056064694/made-for-elisabethmonroe-in-this-years)
> 
> This is super different from most of the things I write. (We found no vigilantes, no guns, no hand-to-hand combat) so let me know how it turned out!


End file.
